Eli was interested but still cautious. He messaged the seller. Whats up with the Jordans

nothing, man, the seller wrote back pretty quickly. I just need to move into a smaller storefront and I’ve got to let this older merchandise go.

That made sense. Eli cracked his knuckles again. There were two paths forward.

1. Do something for someone else for once in his life.

2. Sit back and watch the bookstore close and enjoy the rest of his vape.

This was it. He either did something, here and now. Or he gave up. Went back to tallying the day’s totals. Went back to accepting the status quo. Went back to being the kind of person who rebelled against the system when it was most convenient to himself but sat by and watched when shit was really hitting the fan. Let Jo lose her job and let the bookstore close without doing a damned thing about it.

Eli made a decision.

alright lets do it, and Eli put the payment through on the vendor website—because he knew better than to give away a billing address and a bank account to a stranger on the internet—and watched as the available funds drained out of the account.

He’d done it. Or at least, half of it.

Eli took the photos that were already on the seller page and asked for copies, double-checking that those were images of the actual product. The seller assured Eli that they were and sent along the photos as a measure of good faith. The overnight tracking number arrived quickly in Jo’s inbox after that. The merchandise would arrive tomorrow. The timing was perfect.

Eli had his first pair of Jordans listed by 2:00 A.M.

Ping. He had a hit. Already. Eli let out a sigh of relief. He was really doing it. He was really saving the bookstore.

These photos of the actual merchandise? That was from the buyer.

Eli assured the buyer that they were.

no good

But that didn’t make any sense to Eli. Having photos of the actual merchandise was always helpful. No good?

The response was almost immediate. Nah, man. these are fake af.

Fake??? Eli had trouble breathing. He’d been managing just fine before. But he struggled to inhale now. There was no way—no way—these were fake. They were real. They had to be real.

Didn’t you know?

No, typed Eli. Because this wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.

But the person on the other end was relentless. The lightning bolt in the back isn’t right. The tongue doesn’t say Be Like Mike. dont mess with me man. you gotta know they’re fake.